Masters and Slaves
by Bloaty Kitsune
Summary: Waya, son of a rich warlord, finds Isumi, a slave, extremely stupid for helping anyone who needs help, and when the feisty slave rebuked him for a comment, he thought of the perfect revenge. Buy him and torture him. Only...what about love?


A/N: HIKARU SHINDOU IS A BIG PERVERT WHO'S AFTER TOUYA AKIRA'S...guess what? No, not that! Not that either! Nuh uh! Not right! Continue guessing! Nope! Wanna know? Do you really wanna know? I will tell you then...it is...*dun dun dun* TOENAILS! HIKARU IS AFTER TOUYA'S TOENAILS! AHHHHHHHH!!! Okay, no, I'm joking. Or maybe not. Am I? Hmm...*looks around* Err...well...Hey, wait a minute, this isn't even about Hikaru and Akira! This is Waya and Isumi! (I don't like Isumi. Really, I don't, but I'm writing about him anyway. Am I crazy or what? )  
  
The nice summary: Isumi's this slave who's really really nice, so he does everything for everyone without worrying about himself suffering and blah blah blah...so Waya was spying on him, and is all like "YOU'RE STUPID! WHY DO YOU DO THAT?" And Isumi comments back, all the while smiling like he usually does and rebukes Waya who gets mad and buys him and blah blah blah...err, anyway...*looks around* nevermind.  
  
Disclaimers: Let me tell you something! No, no, Isumi doesn't want Waya's nostrils...at least, I'm hoping not. It's this...the ultimate secret...the big big big big big secret...I...DO NOT OWN HIKARU NO GO! But you all thought I did, didn't you, because I'm such a nice writer and all...hehehe...  
  
***  
  
Chapter 1  
  
***  
  
"Ne, ne, Isumi-chan, would be ever so kind as to drop these off at the market? I'd do it myself, but this back..."  
  
Isumi, turning away from the mounds of workload he'd just received from his not-so-nice master, smiled gently as he took the basket of turnips from old Hiruba-san's wrinkled hands. Although not particularly inclined to go to the market at such a moment for none of his work assigned was doneand he would surely receive a lashing for it, he just couldn't find it in his heart to refuse this poor, fragile woman.  
  
"No, not at all, Hiruba-san. Just give these to your husband, right?"  
  
"Yes, yes! Thank you, Isumi-chan," murmured the old lady with what appeared to be a look of gratitude. "I shall forever be in your debt."  
  
"Nonsense! It's my duty to help, after all," Isumi replied politely, before giving a slight bow and walking off.  
  
Yes, it was always like this, he concluded as he stepped onto the ancient and worn path of the forest. Never could he turn down those who needed his help, even if it was at his own expense.  
  
"Maybe I'm a bit pathetic," he thought out loud, amused.  
  
"Yes, I totally agree!"  
  
Isumi jumped with surprise as a foreign voice shot those words from behind him. Turning around, he found himself facing a boy who possessed a head of messy, brown hair, dark, chocolaty eyes, and healthy tanned skin. Judging from his height and outlooks, he seemed a few years younger than Isumi himself, and for the oddest reason, Isumi felt as if he'd seen this boy before, yet could not place a finger on it.  
  
"Hello there," said Isumi kindly.  
  
The boy shot him a rude glare.  
  
"You know what your problem is? It's that you're too trusting! That old hag back there, right after you left, she starting cackling!" he continued, completely ignoring Isumi's greeting. "You're a slave right?"  
  
A bit surprised, Isumi merely nodded yes.  
  
"Yup, I thought so. It's the clothes...and, I don't know, that chain maybe? Heh. Anyway, my point is, you shouldn't do stuff for people just because they seem nice and incapable. You should always-"  
  
Here, the boy was cut off as Isumi let out a chuckle.  
  
"I should always consider my own advantages?" he asked, grinning.  
  
"In fact...yes!"  
  
"Well, little boy, I consider it to my advantage to help people then," finished Isumi, and upon seeing the younger boy's confusion, added, "I feel happier when I do help then. I'm sure they do too."  
  
At loss for the words, as it would seem, the strange boy looked at Isumi oddly before saying, "You're weird."  
  
"Yes, I've been quite assured of that."  
  
"Oh...and also, I'M NOT A LITTLE BOY! I HAVE A NAME!"  
  
Isumi burst out laughing at the boy's indignant look.  
  
"But I haven't a clue as to what it is! After all, you did start this conversation with 'yes, I totally agree', which tells me nothing!"  
  
"Oh, put a foot in it. Name's Waya Yoshitaka."  
  
"I see, Yoshi-chan!"  
  
"Hey! Who gave you permission to call me that?"  
  
Isumi shrugged.  
  
"I happen to think it's cute."  
  
Waya shot him a killer glare, before muttering, "And here I thought you were some _nice_ idiot!"  
  
"Did you now? Well, so they say, never judge a person by their looks! Still, I must be on my way now. Fancy meeting you, Yoshi-chan. Perhaps we'll see each other again soon."  
  
Waya shrugged before promptly turning away without so much as a goodbye and stalking off. Isumi smiled at the grumbling boy before continuing on his own way.  
  
"I feel happier when I help them? I really am quiet pathetic," he mused silently with a soft chuckle.  
  
***  
  
Waya Yoshitaka is what we can call...a brat...a whiner...rude...and a total pain in the butt. He, being the son of a rich and powerful warlord, possessed not an ounce of patience, and when he thought something was wrong, he says it. And, being in his position, people usually listened...Which is why he was kinda surprised when that slave had retorted...and mad...and annoyed...and confused.  
  
"ARGH! No one says that to me! And that old lady, she really was cackling! I bet she's some old witch anyway. Maybe I can get father to burn her on a stake or something..."  
  
In a considerably bad mood now, the young lord kicked at anything in his way, pebbles, plants, and people alike. Not that anyone really protested...  
  
"And the nerve of him, to call me 'little boy' and 'Yoshi-chan'! I think he needs to be burned at a stake too! In fact, I'm going to tell exactly that to Father! Hmph!"  
  
But somewhere, deep (very, very deep, for he didn't really acknowledge it) in his heart, he knew that he didn't want to burn the feisty slave, and that, truly, he just wanted to see him again.  
  
"Maybe I should buy him or something...and torture him slowly...and make him wish he would be burned on a stake...yeah! I'll do that! Ha! I'm such a genius!"  
  
Had he been a commoner, people would probably have burned _him_ on a stake, as he was muttering loudly to himself. But, as he was not, they decided to ignore him and let him mutter as much as he wants. The rich people...  
  
***  
  
End of Chapter  
  
***  
  
*end notes*: Yup, you need to suffer more notes from me, and it's just that the title was a joke...^-^ (Cuz I'm such a jokable person...ehehehe...nevermind) Anyway, Bloaty would very much like it if someone offered to be her editor, cuz she's very forgetful and doesn't like rereading what she writes, so if you would like to be one, please send it in a review, and I'll give you a nice little testie on editing which will tell you just how much you know. (No, it's actually extremely easy, I bet...don't know what it is yet...um...yeah. Fun fun!) And also, she'd be very appreciative towards any review that tells her about anything she needs to improve on. See how horrible at grammar I am! I'm referring to myself as 3rd person! Heh. That's all. Hope you enjoyed, peoples, and now I'll go study for that science test. 


End file.
